


Blue Shirts and Chicken Dino’s

by SpaceShipMint



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crack, Gen, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:46:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23472682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceShipMint/pseuds/SpaceShipMint
Summary: All Captain Kirk wants is to eat some Chicken Dino’s in peace, but Bones and Spock have other ideas.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Spock, James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock, Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Spock
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	Blue Shirts and Chicken Dino’s

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eynn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eynn/gifts).



“Dina, what are you doing?” Rex, the Dino in Jim’s left hand, asks the one in his right. 

“Why, I’m going to the red hot spring. I hear it’s really nice!” Dina answers. 

“No!” Rex yells, wiggling around on the plate. “I hear if you go in there, a giant will come and bite your head off!”

“That’s just a myth,” Dina says, dipping her head in the ketchup. The Captain then bites the Dino’s head off, giggling to himself.

Then he hears a scream. “Jim! What did you do to the replicators?”

He quickly hides his Dinos under the table as Bones appears in the doorway. The doctor leans over the table, using one hand to hold up his weight and the other to point a finger in Jim’s face. “Jim. What. Did. You. Do?”

“Nothing!” Jim blurts out. 

Bones’ eyes narrow, and he pushes his finger even further in Jim’s face. “Then why is the replicator giving me nothing but those blasted chicken nuggets I know you love?” 

“I honestly don’t know, Bones!” Jim says, catching himself before he glances down. But he must have done something to give himself away, because Bones suddenly goes around the table and tries to peek under it. 

Jim quickly stands up and hides his hands behind his back. “Bones, please. I haven’t done anything. I swear!”

Bones tries to look around Jim, then crosses his arms and smiles smugly. “Then what is it you’re hiding behind your back?”

“Nothing!” Jim panics. “I — I’m just practicing standing like Spock, that’s all. You know how he always stands there with his hands behind his back.”

Bones arches an eyebrow. “And . . . Why exactly do you want to stand like the walking computer?” 

Jim starts fidgeting with his hands, which is a bad idea while holding a plate full of Chicken Dinos. “Um, because, because I’m trying to understand him better, yeah!” 

“Right . . .” the doctor says. He then lunges towards Jim, causing several Dinos to go flying across the empty mess hall. 

They both watch the Chicken Dinos slide across the floor, then Bones looks up and gives Jim the death glare. Jim smiles. “I can explain.”

“Really? So tell me, why did you program the replicators to only make those damn things? Were you so mad I wasn’t letting you have those grease bombs that you decided everyone has to suffer heart disease with you?”

“What? I didn’t program the replicators to do anything,” Jim says, but Bones rolls his eyes obviously not believing him. Before Jim can come up with anything else in his defense, Spock walks in and stares at the Chicken Dinos scattered on the floor. “Spock, thank god! Please tell Bones it wasn’t me.”

Spock raises his damn eyebrow too. “Captain, I am unsure of what you are referring to. You will have to be more specific.”

Bones takes a step towards Spock, “He programmed the damn replicators to make nothing but those prehistoric chicken nuggets!”

“But I didn’t! Spock, you have to believe me,” Jim begs, again nearly dropping what’s left of his Dinos while trying to do a pleading hand motion.

Spock stays silent for a moment, holding his hands behind his back while considering the evidence. “See,” Jim whispers at Bones, “he does stand like that all the time.” Spock raises his eyebrow.

After another moment, Spock concludes, “Captain, the evidence you and the doctor have provided suggests that while you did not change the programming of the replicators, you are partly responsible for their only creating what you call “chicken dinosaurs.”

“See?” Bones smirks.

“What! How am I responsible?” Jim asks, and in his outrage yet again almost drops his plate.

“Because,” Spock explains, “it appears the replicators are stuck replicating the last thing they were told to make, which was these chicken dinosaurs.”

Bones glares at Jim again. “See? If only you’d replicated a salad, we’d all be doing pretty damn good. Heaven knows pretty much everyone on this god forsaken ship could use a healthier diet. But no, you had to eat those dumb nuggets that I’ve told you a million times not to eat, and drag everyone else into cardiac arrest along with you!”

“Bones, please, it isn’t my — “

“No, I’ve had enough. I’m going to have a drink,” Bones snaps. Then he glances at Spock, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you can come if you want. I know both of us have had more than enough of Jim’s antics.”

Spock tilts his head slightly. “Very well doctor. I shall accompany you.” 

“Alright, come on then before I change my mind.” The doctor says. Then, just to piss Jim off, he grabs Spock's arm and leads him out of the mess hall. He looks back, and Jim finally drops his plate to throw his arms up. The last thing he hears before the door closes is Jim stomping his feet.

~

“Spock why do we put up with him?” Bones asks, putting his face in his hands. He’d had several glasses of whiskey already, and Spock had eaten a few bars of chocolate, the chocoholic. 

“I do not know, doctor, it is frankly quite illogical,” Spock says, sounding like his normal self, but really he’s just barely caught himself from falling out of his chair. “Perhaps it is because it is our duty to be loyal to our captain.”

Bones attempts to roll his eyes at Spock, but only succeeds at blinking. “Hey! What if it’s his eyes?” Bones says, sitting up straighter at the realization.

Spock quickly turns his head towards Bones, which causes him to completely lose balance and fall on the floor. “Your conclusion is a logical one,” he says, looking up at Bones from his position on the floor.

“Damn right it is. Like really, his eyes are just so pretty. I don’t even know how to describe it.” 

Spock, still on the floor, apparently unable to get up because he’s so sloshed, says “It is the amber color mixed with the expressiveness the captain often displays to those around him that gives his eyes a quality that could, logically, be called beauty.”

“Logically,” Bones echoes, before going into a fit of laughter. “We should do something to mess with him.” 

Spock raises an eyebrow, “Though normally I would be against such a thing, I find that in my impaired state, ‘messing with’ the Captain sounds like an excellent idea.”

Bones smiles mischievously, “Great, so what should we do?” 

He looks to Spock for an answer, but starts giggling uncontrollably at Spock still stuck on the floor with one leg bent and the other straight, and a hand gripped on the leg of his chair as if it’s keeping the Vulcan from drifting away.

“I believe,” Spock slurs after a moment, “an appropriate prank would be for us to switch shirts.”

“Switch shirts? How would that mess with him?” Bones asks, still barely able to breathe.

“Have you not noticed how Jim often looks at our shirts before greeting us?” 

“No . . . why would he do that?”

“I am uncertain. However, I believe switching our garments would be sufficient for causing the Captain great confusion.”

“Alright, let’s do it.” Bones stands up, losing his balance and ending up on the floor next to Spock. They both erupt into giggles, or Bones does, Spock is making the closest noise he can to a giggle without actually giggling.

~

Jim sits in his chair reading a report when a blue shirt appears next to him. “Hey, Bones. I thought you had a bunch of exams today.”

“Captain?” 

Jim looks up to see Spock staring at him curiously. He jumps.

“Spock! What are you doing here? I mean. Where’s Dr. McCoy? I mean, why are you wearing his shirt?”

“Captain, I can assure you I have no idea what you are talking about. I simply wanted to inform you that we are nearly at our destination,” Spock says, giving Jim the ‘you illogical human’ look he has trademarked.

“But-“ Jim looks Spock up and down, noticing the bit of skin showing from a shirt that is too short, then realizes what he’s doing and blushes and shakes his head. “You know what, never mind. Mr. Spock, what is our arrival time?”

~

Jim nearly forgets about the weird shirt situation with Spock as he heads to sick bay to ask the doctor about the test results for a virus that needed to be taken care of before they can beam down to their destination.

When he arrives at sick bay he sees a familiar blue shirt. “Oh, Spock, are you here to check on the results too.”

The blue shirt snaps around, “What? Jim, please tell me you didn’t just mistake me for that pointy-eared bastard.”

Jim’s mouth is gaped open, “But why are you, uh, you know?” He gestures at the offending shirt.

Bones’ eyes widened, like he somehow didn’t notice. “Jim, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Why are you wearing Spock’s shirt?” He blurts out.

Bones gives him the freaking eyebrow too, and laughs, “Jim, I think you’ve been eating too many of those chicken nuggets.”

“But — “ Jim starts, noticing how the shirt drapes over the doctor's hips, then shakes his head. “You know what, whatever. Just give me the report.”

~

Jim skips to the mess hall, looking forward to more Chicken Dinos. The replicator problem still hasn’t been resolved, even though a team has been working around the clock to fix it. Apparently not everyone appreciates Jim’s favorite food ever.

The door opens, and he’s greeted to the backs of his two favorite people. He tilts his head to the left and says, “Hey, Bones.” And tilts his head to the right as he says, “Hey, Spock.”

They both turn around, revealing Spock on the left, and Bones on the right. Jim gasps in horror, eyes wide open. He almost turns and runs, but the door already shut like one second ago.

“Hello, Jim,” they say in unison. 

Jim backs up in fear. Maybe someone will open the door and he can escape without having to look away to find the panel to open it himself.

“Jim,” Spock says, tilting his head, “Are you alright? You appear anxious.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He says, even though it feels like the world is falling apart. 

“You sure, Jim? It almost looks like I need to drag you to sick bay.” Bones says, eying him.

Jim fights for his composure. He is a Captain, he will not be defeated by two of his officers wearing the wrong shirt. “Tell me, and I’ll make it an order if I have to, why are you wearing each other’s shirts?”

Spock and Bones glance at each other, then back at Jim. 

“Captain, I am afraid we do not know what you are talking about.” Spock says. The fucking liar.

“Wait.” Jim realizes in horror. “You guys had drinks together last night . . . so did you, um . . .did you guys sleep together?”

Bones eyes widen and Jim thinks for a moment that he’s right. Then Bones bursts into laughter, so hard that he has to sit down. And Spock has his amused eyebrow raised, and his mouth is at the closest thing he does to a smile. 

“Uh . . . so I take it you guys didn’t?”

“No, Captain, the doctor and I were merely attempting to ‘mess with’ you. And given the results, I believe we were successful.”

“Damn right we were!” Bones laughs.

Jim fidgets with his hands, but ultimately doesn’t stop his blush. The mess hall is unfortunately not empty this time, so his First Officer and Chief Medical Officer’s little prank on him has some witnesses. “Ok . . . so why were you trying to prank me.”

“Why do you recognize us by our shirts? It makes no sense man.”

“I don’t know!” Jim yells, tired of their stupid shirts and just wanting some delicious processed chicken. He pushes past them, and their poorly fitting shirts that definitely don’t highlight different parts of their chests that he definitely doesn’t think about all the time. “Ok, I’m tired of this, I’m just gonna get my Chicken Dinos now!”

He barely catches Bones smirk from the corner of his eye. He whips around, “What?”

“The replicator is still broken, kid.” Bones says, smiling wide. Jim dreads what words will come next.

“Yes, the doctor is right, the replicator will only make one type of food.” Spock says, his voice offers Jim little comfort at this moment. “However, I was able to program it to a different food. Salad seemed like a healthier alternative for the crew.”

“You . . . reprogrammed it to only give us salad.” Jim asks, in disbelief. Spock nods.

The world goes black for just a moment. Jim falls to his knees. The only thing keeping him from screaming ‘nooooooo!’ and ripping his shirt off, is the fact that there are other people present and they’ve already made enough of a scene.

“How could you do this?” 

Bones looks down at him, and places a hand on his shoulder for comfort. “Hey, look at the bright side. We’ve saved you from heart disease.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to eynn for being my editor and convincing me to write this!


End file.
